LAMBEAU
Flew into Green Bay for the college reunion weekend. Spent the night at the Kohler Lodge, just across the street from Lambeau Field. The view out my window was the iconic Packers' stadium. I spent time in their merch shop, which is as large as a Target. Bought a nice windproof vest that I could wear year-round if I still lived in the midwest. In the morning I ran laps around the stadium in the absence of nearby running trails. Lambeau Loops, I called them on Strava, taking a page from the venerated Lambeau Leap post-touchdown celebration.
WORLD TOUR
I've written before about my morning ritual with the yellow legal pad. It's nothing unusual, me getting my bearings by writing down the events of the day. The same list is already in my phone's calendar app, but if I write it down on paper it seems to stamp the day a little more firmly on my brain. On Sundays I go one better, writing down the entire week to come.
NOT THIS TIME
I received my lottery results for the London Marathon this week. The memo line said simply "Are You In," which reminded me of an old joke about sex but also got my heart beating fast. It sounded so promising. As I opened the message I truly believed I had beaten the odds and scored a coveted bib for the 2027 race.
PROVIDENCE
OVERTRAINING
Got back from Poland on Tuesday. The flight was almost twelve hours and my lie-flat seat wouldn't recline but I made my best of the time by re-reading The Norwegian Method. It's a science-based approach to training distance runners. If you read my Substack yesterday, you'll know how much I cherish data-driven training. This fact surprises me more than anyone I know because I'm normally an impulsive make-it-up-as-you-go individual.
GREETINGS FROM POLAND
I cannot see the Baltic Sea through the French doors opened up onto my hotel balcony. It is only one hundred yards to my left but there is a small forest between here and the broad sandy beach. I'm near Sopow, the leafy suburb next to industrial and charming Gdansk in northern Poland, where shipbuilding cranes silhouette the horizon like enormous metal storks. There is also a running path between the Hotel Lival and the forest and then the Baltic. It is leafy and well used by walkers and parents pushing strollers, and is most of all, rather lovely….
ROAD TRIP
Cleaned the condo last night. Woke up at 5, cold shower (that icy water comes straight off the mountain), took out the trash, Stellar Brew for coffee and a blueberry muffin, then down 395 as the sun limned the White Mountains. I took a picture.
I had the road to myself. Resisted the urge to go full gas, holding 65 miles an hour all the way down the mountain to Bishop. Kept the window rolled down to smell the crisp air. Some guy came out of nowhere to pass me. I just let him go.